love in paris
by opaque-girl
Summary: Oliver's life changes as hurricane hits London and a witch he barely knows, bewitches him away / Dominique/Oliver


**Written for Prompts, Oh Prompts thread at the Next-Genetics Forum, Greenhouses Competition (Tulip – Yellow), Comedies and Tragedies Competition, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Xylomancy, Next-Gen Era), The Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition (Hermes) and I'm Falling In Love Again Challenge at the HPFF Forum :) This is also inspired by my very own Travel-Go Challenge (Prompts: Forbidden Romance/Romantic/Proposal at Eiffel Tower)**

**Pairing: Dominique/Oliver**

**Prompt: Hurricane**

**Beta: colorful swirls**

******Words: 906**

/

It's funny, how you two met - or maybe, just incredibly serious and you can't handle that level of depression.

There was a hurricane, right in the middle of a sunny summer and she rescued you, slamming into you hard and Apparating you away, all the way to France. She was your knight in shining armour and you were left to play the role of damsel in distress, which was quite ridiculous, but really, that's the best analogy you could come up with.

/

"Why did you rescue me?" you ask her.

You have only met her twice, to be honest – once when you played against her aunt, second when she played against your son (you both won, naturally).

"No reason, really - I was there, I saw you, I was Apparating away and I thought to take you along," there is a mischievous twinkle in her eye and you almost - almost - blush.

/

"Why did you divorce your wife?" She asks you later, casually, moonlight gleaming on her face.

"We didn't get along, we were never in love and really, it was for the best,"

"Why did you marry her, then?"

"She was pregnant, I was responsible," you reply, honestly, bluntly. It was true - only, you never remember quite why you fucked her in the first place.

"I never liked her much - she's so vile," Dominique says, child-like innocently and you laugh.

Pansy Parkinson was a vile woman, indeed and you knew that better than anyone - or maybe not better than your son, actually, who still had to bear her, somewhat, unlike you.

"She is vile," you admit and that shocks her, so just looks at you and stares.

"What?" you ask her, while she openly continues to gape at you.

"I can't believe you just said that about you ex-wife!" she says, hand on her mouth, giggles escaping.

"It's true," you defend yourself and this time she laughs heartily.

"It is, but I just can't believe you admitted that," she says, her eyes still shining.

/

She takes you around Paris, while you two are still stuck there – all methods of transportation to England have been barred or destroyed, there is a havoc and you're not entirely sure whether you would be able to live through the scars of another war – and you end up sight-seeing with a girl whose barely eighteen.

"Look at that, Oliver!" she points out, excited, while you two are taking a leisurely stroll in the famous Jardin du Luxembourg Gardens.

"It's a fountain," you remark, uninterested. There were so many fountains and statues around in the park that there seemed nothing exciting about another one anymore.

"No, it's a wishing well! Let's go make a wish!" she drags you along, dancing her way to the fountain – or the wishing well, as she said.

"We're wizards, Dominique – we don't need wishing wells to make wishes," you try to reason with her but she's too excited to pay any heed to you.

She's standing there, eyes already closed, ready to throw in a Knut as she makes her wish and all you could do is stare.

/

You have never been much interested in the arts and museums but you're interested in the way Wizarding history often finds its way in Muggle art galleries and museums.

"Wasn't Da Vinci a wizard?" Dominique asks you as you comes across another Leonardo da Vinci painting.

"He was – that's why Mona Lisa's eyes are enchanted to follow you wherever you go," you tell her and she looks at you, shocked.

"What a piece of scum! He sold them to Muggles as a piece of art while all it was an enchanted painting!" She exclaims and you laugh at the string of abuses coming out an eighteen year old's mouth.

/

The quirk conversations continue, spanning over days, weeks and finally, the time has come for you two to separate.

"There is one more place I still have to show in Paris," she says, her eyes filled with an emotion you can't really identify.

"Which place?" you ask her, not ready to let go of her either.

"Come, I'll take you along," she grabs your hand and you once again, apprates you away.

/

"What is this?" you ask her, staring at the huge 100-storey tower. It's bewitching, almost magical – you have never quite seen anything like it before yet you fail to understand it's purpose.

"It's the Eiffel Tower,"

"What's so special about it?"

"It's a Muggle Icon of love – every year, hundreds of Muggles come here at night to profess their love for each other at the third level of Eiffel Tower, surrounded by lights and love of Paris,"

"It is enchanting," you remark back, not wanting to read deeper into her words – it wasn't night time anyways, was it?

"It is," she replies and suddenly you feel her hands on your cheeks, holding you close, staring into your eyes, begging you to respond and you know you aren't reading in too much.

Gently, almost hesitantly, you press your lips against her and she sighs, responding almost instantly to your touch. Your tongue invades her mouth and responds back passionately, devouring your mouth completely with her own. She tastes like cinnamon and hazel and you never want to let go of her.

"This is more enchanting," she replies, breathless, before your lips claim her mouth again.

/

**I have never been good at writing fluff and this was a some-what attempt to write a fluffy, happy story and I would love to know what you think about it :)**


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